Happily Ever After?
By: The Lark
Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera doesn't belong to me. You can sue me if you want, but all you'll get out of it is fifty-seven cents, a very slow PC, and some cough drops.
"So, what's it gonna be, Christine?" Erik snarled, tugging menacingly on the lasso wrapped around Raoul de Chagny's throat. "Are you going to marry me, or am I gonna have to snap blondie here like a twig?"
"For heaven's sake," rasped Raoul, "whatever happened to getting down on one knee?"
"Shove it!" snapped Erik, reddening. "Christine, have you made your choice?"
Christine slowly waded into the lake and advanced on Erik.
Pitiful creature of darkness
What kind of life have you known?
God give me courage to show you
You are not alone!
And with that, she slipped Erik's ring onto her finger and kissed him. A lot.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, Erik pulled away dizzily. "So…was that a yes?"
"Of course, darling." She smiled apologetically at the vicomte, and tossed him a knife, as he was still trussed to the gate "Sorry, Raoul."
Raoul just cut himself free and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry your pretty little head about me. I know when I'm licked. I wish you two all the happiness in the world." He opened the gate and waded out of the lair. "Don't bother to stop sucking face--I'll show myself out." As his footsteps faded away, they could here him calling out to the approaching mob, "Never mind, everybody. The Phantom got away, but we shouldn't let the evening be a total loss. Let's all go for pizza, my treat!"
The angry mob let out a cheer, dropped their torches and weapons into the lake, and raced for the exits.
The day after this seemingly perfect E/C ending, the happy couple got married, then spent the next two weeks on their honeymoon in Hawaii. Everything went perfectly until they got back. (Well, except for that hula class they took. Don't ask.)
The morning after they came home, Erik awoke to a inharmonious blast that seemed to be coming from his pipe organ. He clamped his hands over his ears and stormed out of the bedroom. "Ow! Damn it! So help me, if those Phans are down here taking souvenir photos of themselves playing my organ again, I'm gonna--gah!" Erik cried as he spotted his organ with several heavy shopping bags sitting on the keys and some sort of red goo dribbling over the edge of the keyboard.
Christine cheerfully skipped back into the room. "Morning honey."
"Christine, what have you done? What is that goo all over my poor pipe organ?"
"Oh, I've just been out shopping, and the bags were really heavy, so I dropped them on the organ because it was close to the door. One of my bottles of perfume must've broken."
Erik pulled the bags off the organ, ending the horrible blare of noise, and rummaged around in them for the cracked bottle. His eyes widened with horror as he read the label. "Pearberry? PEARBERRY! Now I won't be able to play my organ againuntil the smell wears off of it. I hope you're happy!"
"What's the big deal?" Christine rolled her eyes.
"I'm a disfigured serial killer who lives in a deadly maze five stories underground. People expect me to smell like death and decay and fresh blood! Not…" He examined the label closely. "…A delightful blend of juicy pears and ripe forest berries!"
Unfazed, she took the bag and handed him a second bottle. "Here, then, put on some of this Moonlight Path scent to cover it up. You like moonlight and nighttime and all that jazz, so it's appropriate for you, right?"
Erik skimmed through the ingredient list. "It's full of bloody flowers!" he cried indignantly.
"Settle down, honey."
She's right, he told himself, willing his fists to unclench. He loved her, and he should be able to overlook a silly little thing like this. "I'm sorry I blew up at you dear. Let me help you put those things away." He poked through the bags. "You didn't happen to pick up any cat food while you were out, did you? Ayesha's almost out."
"Erik, I have something to tell you, and I want you to promise you won't blow up and go on one of your violent rampages when you hear it."
He groaned. "What did you do to her? Please tell me you didn't try to dress her in one of those revolting animal sweaters. Because I tried that one time and the results weren't pretty."
"Erik, I gave away your cat."
"WHAT!"He shook her by the shoulders. "How could you do that to me?" He paced back and forth, muttering fretfully. "This can't be happening! My poor little baby! All alone without anyone to tell her a bedtime story and kiss her goodnight and--"
"Relax, Erik, it's not like I just dumped her in the pound. I left her with Nadir. He lives alone and I thought he could use the company."
At this same time, across town, everyone's favorite daroga was barricaded into his basement, crouched on the floor in a corner and praying fervently that the Animal Control people got there in time.
"Besides," Christine continued, "you're entirely too fixated on that silly animal. The way you dote on her, it's disgraceful. You need to break yourself of that. I don't want you spoiling our kids rotten."
He gaped at his wife dumbly. "Uh...our kids? When, exactly, did we decide we were having kids?"
"Don't you argue with me! Ever since I was a little girl, I've had my family all planned out. We're going to have six children all together…"
Erik put his head in his hands. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
"…three boys and three girls," she continued as if she hadn't heard. "The girls are all going to be named after flowers, and the boys are all going to born roughly close together so that we can dress them in matching outfits. And their names are going to be--"
He gave up on trying to argue with her and clamped a hand over her mouth. "I want my cat back."
She pulled away from him and opened another of the bags. "Don't worry Erik. I knew you'd be upset, so I took the liberty of buying you a new pet." She pulled a birdcage out of the bag and pulled away the cover, revealing an almost blindingly bright red and green parrot. "Say hello to Pierre!"
Erik's mouth opened and closed silently, as if he were trying to yell but had momentarily forgotten how.
Christine clapped her hands happily. "You're speechless! I knew you'd like him better than that evil cat once you calmed down a bit. This little guy caught my eye right off hand. See, I was asking the man at the pet store what sort of pet he would recommend for an adorable psycho who enjoys music."
"And he recommended this garish creature?"
"No. But the moment the words were out of my mouth, Pierre here started echoing, 'adorable psycho, adorable psycho'. It was so precious!"
Right on cue, Pierre parroted, "Adorable psycho! Adorable psycho!" in a shrill, grating voice.
Erik cringed, not sure whether to be more irritated by the "adorable" part or the "psycho" part.
"Now, why don't you find Pierre's birdseed, and I'll go hang his cage next to your pipe organ so he can keep you company while you compose."
Grinding his teeth and digging his nails into his palms, Erik tried to remind himself that he was deeply in love and should be deliriously happy right now.
A few days later, Erik stepped out of the bathroom in a towel and headed to his closet, only to discover that his clothes were all gone. "Dang it! Christine, did you let more of those souvenir-hunting Phans into the house?"
"No, I gave your clothes away to charity. I'm sure some homeless vampire will be very grateful to get them."
"Christine!"
"Look, honey, I've asked you time and again to buy some new clothes in a color other than black, and you've ignored me. This was the only solution I could think of." She tossed him his last remaining suit and a pair of shoes. "Now get dressed. The mall opens in a half hour."
Thirty minutes later, the Phantom of the Opera was being dragged through a department store, his wife draping various articles of clothing over him along the way. "Oh, look at this yellow one. It brings out your eyes beautifully, don't you think?"
"Absolutely not! Christine, I can put up with a lot, but I draw the line at dressing in pastels."
"Oh, Erik, you're such a drama queen sometimes. I think you've been listening to too much opera."
"I'm the Phantom of the freaking Opera! What else am I supposed to do?" shrieked Erik.
"Don't make a scene, sweetheart." She patted him on the arm and handed him another jacket. "Here, try this white one on. It matches your mask perfectly."
By the time theygot hometo the lair, Erik was decked out in white from head to toe, except for his black cloak, which he had only been allowed to keep because he needed it for stealth purposes. After wearily dropping the shopping bags on the floor, he trudged over to his pipe organ, collapsed onto the bench, and banged his head against the keys.
"Adorable psycho! Adorable psycho!" crowed Pierre in his usual greeting.
Erik pulled off his left shoe and hurled it at the cage. "Christine made me promise not to kill you, Pierre, but someday when her head is turned, I'll be bringing Ayesha back in to do the job for me. Watch your back, bird."
"Erik, come in here!" Christine called from the living room. "We have company."
Popping an antacid tablet into his mouth, Erik reluctantly obeyed.
TBC…